She and He
by BlueMoonsAndTooSoons
Summary: A discovery of friendship that fails to be a friendship? What does that even mean? Polly and Digory haven't always seen eye to eye, but there is one thing they'll always have in common: Mutual love for one another.
1. Chapter 1

**I couldn't help but notice there weren't very many Polly/Digory fanfictions out there. This is something I find quite saddening, since they are my favorite pairing. I'm cool with all your innocet one-shots, but I would like to introduce something with a little bit more meat. Don't get me wrong, it's still going to be innocent-ish, but it will be multi-chapter. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!**

**Standard disclaimer applies because I'm not cool enough to come up with a witty one. **

Polly didn't mind the snow. If anything, she liked it. But she would never go so far as to say she loved it, like Digory did. She despised his passion for the common form of precipitation, only because it annoyed her that anyone could love something so trivial.

"Come on, Polly! It's too exciting out there for you to stay in here and read like that." A wet and snowy Digory said excitedly as he stood in the door way.

"Get out of my house right now, Digory Kirke." She demanded. "Mother just cleaned these floors and she won't be none to happy if she finds out you soled them with your dirty snow."

"Ah Polly, come off it. You and I have done worse things and your mother didn't even notice."

"That's because she just made me clean it later. Besides, I don't want to go. I'd rather read here, where I'm nice and warm."

Digory looked at his old friend with casual suspicion. He toyed briefly with the thought of marching over to her, grabbing her arm, and forcing her into the snow, but he knew she'd react very strongly to that. She'd whack him over the head and lock him outside so he couldn't get back in to bother her again. He knew this, because that's exactly what she'd done on Tuesday when he tried it the first time. He was only just now allowed back into the Plummer home, and he didn't want to abuse his rights so quickly.

Besides, Mrs. Plummer was going to make hot cider, and he wanted to be here for that.

However, he was more focused on contemplating the change in her. He remembered when they went to Narnia. It was ages ago, nearly four years. They still talked about it, but Polly had almost gotten withdrawn about it. She'd grown up actually, but Digory didn't want to think of it in that way. He'd preferred to think of it as going dull. And that's just what Polly was these days; dull.

"Fine. I'll go on outside alone. I think I see Ronald Williamsby anyway…" Digory didn't actually see his chum anywhere, but he knew Polly despised the boy. He was hoping to provoke her into convincing him to stay or maybe come outside.

"That's nice. Go have fun with your friend." She muttered, staring at her book, sounding an aggravating amount like his mum.

He gave her one last look before marching outside, pulling his hat down over his ear, and diving head first into a drift of snow.

He hadn't been in there long when he heard Polly call his name. In a moment of absurd hope, he popped up.

"Mother say's the cider's ready if you want some." She announced in a plain way. He looked at her and noticed that she was shivering.

"Yeh, I'll be there in a minute. You go inside."

She looked at him gratefully before going back in and closing the door behind her. He stood up and shook as much of the snow off of his coat and breeches as possible, then marched up to the door. He walked in and received his cup from Mrs. Plummer eagerly and followed her suggestion to sit in the parlor by the fire with Polly. He walked in to see her reading her book as before, but this time she didn't demand he leave the house. She just directed her eyes towards the chair opposing her and he sat down, in spite of the fact that knew he was making the nice chair soaking wet. So instead of settling into it like he wanted to, he perched uncomfortably on the edge.

"What are you reading?" He asked after a long moment of silence.

"Umm, nothing." She shook her head, but looked up at Digory anyway, hiding the pages of the book. There was no embellishing on the book itself to indicate it's contents, so Digory couldn't tell what she had in her hands to be embarrassed about.

"No really, I want to know. Maybe I might be interested." He craned his neck to see more, but she blushed.

"I'm pretty sure you won't be interested." She said sardonically.

"Why? Is it something for school? Bloody awful of them to assign you something when term is over for the holidays."

"No, it isn't exactly for school…" Polly grimaced.

"Is your mother making you read it? I suppose I could just ask her what you're reading then…"

Polly paled. "Oh no, don't ask momma! She doesn't know… er, care what I read."

Digory took a sip from his cider calmly. He made a show of settling back into his chair somewhat, and set his cider on a nearby table. "All right then, if you really don't want to tell me…"

"Thank you." Polly relaxed visibly and released her tight grip on the book. He looked at her for a second.

"I'll just have to find out for myself!"

Before she could process exactly what he meant my that, Digory had jumped up and taken the book from her grasp and run to the other side of the room, reading the page in front of him.

"_Cordelia fought back, but the strength of the Duke was too much for her, the charm of the Duke over powered her, and she couldn't maintain her resistance… She allowed him to kiss her bosom and while the fear of him was still solidly maintained, she succumbed to his villainous ways and manly desires. _Oh yuck!" Digory tossed the book back at Polly, who had been standing with a sheepish and embarrassed expression on her face. Seeing the book tumbling through the air, she yelped and dove after it, catching it by the cover. She examined the binding for any tears, and finding none she satisfactorily put the book under her arm.

"That was cruel, Digory Kirke." She said, sticking her nose into the air and becoming the Polly who hated snow. Digory was still disgusted by what he'd just read and didn't notice.

"Why are you reading that? It's awful." He sneered.

"If you must know, Susan Jenkins in 11th year said I had to. She told me to read it over the holiday and then tell her what I thought of it." Polly muttered glumly.

"And why do you read it when it's so terrible?" He asked. "Just because an upper classman told you too?"

"No! She's my friend! She's every bodies friend. I thought…" She was suddenly quiet.

"What?" He asked her carefully. He knew how volatile she was sometimes.

"I thought maybe everyone would like me too if I read her book…"

Digory suddenly didn't know how to respond. "I like you." Was all he could muster.

"Oh, I don't care about…" She threw her hands up to her mouth. "Oh no! No, I didn't mean that!"

Digory had a blank look on his face. "Sure… I know you didn't mean to _say_ it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Polly defended, hurt by his tone and insinuation.

"Come off it Polly, you've been treating me low since I got here for the winter holiday. Even without you saying it, I could tell." He snapped.

"That's not true! You're the only friend I have who knows everything about me!" She cried.

"Bloody hell, Polly, I don't know the first thing about you now! I only know the you that went with me to Narnia and helped destroy Jadis and flew on the Pegasus with me. I know the you who went to the candy shop with me every Tuesday to buy licorice for mum, and I know the you who would play in the snow. But I certainly don't know you!"

"Digory! I'm right here!"

"The Polly I know wouldn't read this smut of a book just because she wanted to be popular."

The last remark stung. Polly felt her heart fly into her mouth and she bit back her tears. How could she know who she really was when her best friend couldn't even tell her. Who was he to tell her who she was anyway? What if this just was Polly Plummer? People change, and that's a fact, she thought.

"I like it." Polly growled.

Digory seemed taken aback. He thought for sure the last gibe would make her crumble, not fortify. "Why?"

"Because it's interesting and new." She sniffed.

"It's awful!" He protested. "I'm sure your mum would hate it."

Polly didn't know quite what to say to that one. She sat and thought for a second before she finally admitted her defeat. Looking at the book, she imagined what might have happened in the room if those 243 pages bound in leather hadn't been there. Perhaps Digory would have told her how fetching she looked in her new, blue dress. She would have thanked him and asked him how his cider was. He would have told her it was just fine, and thanked her for it. She would blush demurely, but then tell him it was really her mother's praise. Perhaps they could have had a nice, normal conversation about his plans for Christmas and where they would spend New years. Perhaps they wouldn't have had such a row.

She looked at the book and thought about how unhappy it had made her. Then, without thinking about it too hard, she flung it into the fire place.

Digory looked at her in shock as she stood up to grab a poker and push it deeper into the flames. She made sure the whole thing was on fire before backing away, but before she did, she could have sworn she saw the face of a lion in the flames for a split second, roaring his approval.

Now Digory had a chance to look at Polly as his friend, and he smiled.

"I like your dress Polly. Did you get it from your grandmother's closet?" He teased.

"Oh hush up. Do you want more cider?"

"I don't know… it's kinda grainy."

"Hey!" She protested.

"Alright, yes. I would love some more cider." He held his cup out to her, but she just laughed in response.

"Get it yourself, lazybones. You know where the kitchen is."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2, darlings! I'm updating quickly, but that's not because I have a good work ethic. It's because I happen to have a chapter 2. Not to say of course that I don't have an ethic. I do. It's just not spectacular. **

**My last disclaimer is the one that applies to all chapters hereafter. End of story. Thank you for reading!**

It wasn't clear to Mrs. Plummer what had happened between Polly and Digory that afternoon, but all she could see was an obvious improvement in the way they treated each other. After serving the cider, she had stepped next door to have a little talk with Mrs. Kirke, and when she came back, the pair were teasing and getting along in a much easier way than they had been before. After a little look at the two, she just went into the kitchen to see the smallest of splashes on the floor, sticky with the sugar she hadput in the cider. Around the mess were signs of a struggle. Mrs. Plummer just sighed and decided to make Polly clean it up when Digory left, as it was safe to say that it was the fault of the two young people.

She sat in the kitchen and started up her knitting. She was hoping to complete the light blue shawl for before Christmas, and she worked diligently for sometime before the sounds from the parlour really caught her attention. She spent a moment in deliberation before deciding it wasn't evesdropping to listen in on her daughter...

"...Who's that?" Digory asked. He seemed to be slightly concerned, butit seemed inncocous enough.

"Cedric Daughtry. He moved in three homes down and goes to my school."

Mrs. Plummer recognized the name and the tone of voice Polly had used. She made the safe bet that things were not going to be as easy anymore.

"Why'd you quote him them? He doesn't seem important enough for that; after all, you barely know him." Digory had to bee sneering, the way those words came out. Perhaps he didn't mean to be, but he was obviously disgusted.

"Well, Cedric says that everything people say is important, no matter how well you know them. You learn a lot about people if you listen to them." Polly defended her "friend."

"That doesn't mean you have to adopt all his opinions as your own." Digory retorted.

"I do not! I just think some of the things he says are quite brilliant."

"You've quoted him three times in the past three minutes!" Digory gasped. It was then quiet for a while, but Digory didn't leave that way for long. "Are you keen on him?"

"Well I..." Mrs. Plummer knew Polly was blushing furiously. She wondered if she should come to her daughter's aid, but decided to wait a little longer before blessing her with matronly interseedence.

"You are, aren't you? Alright, then why isn't he here with you? Does he even like you in return?" Digory prodded.

"Yes he does! We've been steady for two months now. He's having holiday in the country with his grandmother. She's very wealthy and lives in a manor in Derbeshire." She retorted brutally, not liking his implications. She had dealt with the lack of return for Cedric's feelings for months before he finally asked her to go riding in his buggy two months ago.

"That's miles from here! Surely he doesn't go all the way across the country just to see his granny."

"His parent's want to stay in the will. They go there every Christmas." Polly muttered.

"Ah ha! He's a sap. I can tell already by what you've told me. He isn't your type Polly." Digory said proudly.

"And who are you to know my type, Digory Kirke! As a matter of fact, Cedric is exatly my type. He's not a stuffed-shirt like some people. He's really brilliant..." She tapered off the sentence as if she didn't know how to finish it. Digory didn't seem afected by her at all, and just continued his speech calmly.

"I can tell he's a 'stuffed-shirt' as you say. All those quotes, your description of his family; Bloody hell.." Mrs. Plummer gasped at the expletive. "He sounds like a real git to me."

Mrs. Plummer wouldn't not stand to hear anyone talk to Polly with such language. And she had thought Digory was such a nice boy!

"Bugger off, Digory! You don't even know him!"

"I know his type, Polly. I go to school with them all the time."

"Bollucks..." Polly swore. Mrs. Plummer was about to have a heart attack. "You are just... Digory Kirke, get out of my house!"

Mrs. Plummer cheered silently for her daughter.

"No." Was all she heard Digory say, but there was some mumbling going on.

"I find that most insulting!" Polly gasped indignantly. Mrs. Plummer was starting to wonder what had happenedand if she should show herself yet.

"Well, think about it! Has he ever..." Mrs. Plummer stoodup and walked into the kitchen where she couldn't hear them anymore. What she thought was the two of them becoming friend again had escalated into a fight she wasn't sure she really wanted to hear. While trying to decide what to do, she cleaned up the cider mess. She couldn't think if there was a stain on her floor! While she was on her hands and knees scrubbing, she heard the sudden opening and closing of the door and a sob. Polly ran into the kitchen, distraught.

"Oh momma!" She fell into a chair by the dining table. "I can't stand him! He always ruins everything!"

"I know dear." said calmly, despite all the anti-calm feelings flowing through her.

"Why do boys have to be so aggrivating? Except Cedric, he's never annoyed me." She smiled slightly through her tears, but itwas a confused smile.

"I knew a boy like that once..." Mrs. Plummer smiled fondly at the memory. "He was a very, very pleasant young man."

"Father?" Polly said delightfully.

"No,no. Father was the boy that irritated me to death." Mrs. Plummer grinned even wider as she watched Polly's eyes grow wide and her lips parted.

"Oh." Was the only thing that would come out of her mouth.

Then, gentle as a lamb, Polly stood. She looked around the room before she saw her cape. She put it on and headed out the kitchen door.

"Where are you going dear?" Mrs. Plummer asked, amused.

"To apologize!" She called back. She came up to the door and opened it, and wentout into the darkness. There was a faint "oomph!" and the sound of two bodies falling into the snow. Mrs. Plummer leaned a little bit closer and could head the awkard apologies of the run in and scrambling to stand in an upright position. She then heard both young people launch into their apologies at the same time. Then awkward laughter, and then silence.

Mrs. Plummer wondered what Mrs. Kirke had told her son, but based on the coversation she had had with the woman only a little while before, she didn't have to guess to hard.


	3. Chapter 3

**This story is on hiatus right now. I have three other fictions I'm working on for Harry Potter, and one for H2O. They are my priority right now, and I thought this was a good time to stop if I have to. I hope this doesn't dissapoint any one too terribly much, but it was just getting to be to much. I hope you'll check out my other profile and read my other stories! Thank you!**

**-Desa Gibbons**

**3**


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